


Failure and Fire

by Outburst



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Humor, Jarvis' Subtle Prank, One Shot, Stark Tower, Suddenly Smut, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, When In Doubt Kill It With Fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-23 22:53:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4895422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Outburst/pseuds/Outburst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy didn't know where she had gone wrong or what she did to deserve the complete chaos that was the (bullshit) position of Integration Specialist. What kind of idiot hired a kid whose resume included favorite Netflix B movies, junk food connoisseur, and social media addict?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Failure and Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Darcy was a naturally loud person.  
  
Volume modulation was not her strong suit. If she had a measly penny for every dirty or annoyed look that had been thrown her way over the past twenty-two years, Darcy would have a Scrooge McDuck vault to swim in.  
  
"GOD-FUCKING-DAMN IT, THOR."  
  
As it turned out, the trade off was the ability to make gods cower.  
  
When one could make the Thor, god of loud ass thunder and lightning, look sheepish and wary, all the negative side effects seemed to matter a whole lot less.  
  
Really, he looked kind of pathetic in an awesome ego-boosting way. If only Darcy wasn't so pissed off she could at least enjoy her own sadism. Or would willingly dealing with godly shenanigans count as masochism…?  
  
She made a sweeping motion at the wreckage before her. The floor was littered with splintered wood, twisted metal, and a murderous looking Loki in the middle of it all (also known as his normal face plus a little more tightness around the jaw - which meant she spent far too much time looking at him).  
  
"What is this?"  
  
Was that a shudder? Oh, she had to use the calm and deadly version of the Mom-voice more often. Or at least figure out how to do it on purpose.  
  
Thor crossed his massive arms and shrugged. "A mere argument," he said, a little wavering on in his usual confidence. "We are done now."  
  
"Are we?"  
  
Darcy made a mental note to start listening to Loki as much as she looked at him; the nuances in the tone and quiet rage were masterful…though not as effective on Thor, Darcy was pleased to note. He pushed himself up to his elbows with a soft hiss and grimace which did not diminish the glare that surely could have melted steel.  
  
"You're not bleeding yet," Loki continued. "I think we are far from finished."  
  
Thor rolled his eyes, and Darcy took that as her cue to step in and refocus their attention.  
  
"You two are the largest toddlers I have ever had the displeasure of babysitting!" Darcy said (or hollered, depending on a normal person's volume range). "This is the sixth piece of furniture you've destroyed this month, Thor! Either you learn to control yourself, or I'll get Banner to do it for you!"  
  
"He started it," Thor sulked. The burly Asgardian never enjoyed being yelled at, but couldn't seem to figure out how to avoid upsetting Darcy. "He always starts it!"  
  
"For the love of…" Darcy ran a hand over her face and into her hair. She pointed a finger each at Thor and Loki. "Grow. Up. You're over _two-thousand_ years old, not two. Act like it!"  
  
With that, she threw both hands into the air and stalked out of the Stark apartment. "AND CLEAN UP YOUR MESS."  
  
Darcy didn't know where she had gone wrong or what she did to deserve the complete chaos that was the (bullshit) position of Integration Specialist. What kind of idiot hired a kid whose resume included favorite Netflix B movies, junk food connoisseur, and social media addict?  
  
"Fucking Stark," Darcy muttered at the fussy key-card lock to her room. Three unsuccessful tries and she was directing her displeasure at the ceiling. "JARVIS! Open the door before I kick the damn thing in!"  
  
_"No need for that, Ms. Lewis,"_ the sardonic British voice sassed in its usual tolerant manner.  
  
The little light on the lock finally turned green. Darcy shoved the door open and let out a sigh that left her body feeling wiped out. She stood in the midst of the pristine white and grey color pallet of her room and wondered for the billionth time why she didn't just run away and pretend that her life did not include two wrecking balls that liked to constantly smash in to one another.  
  
For the billionth plus one time she remembered that Tony would find her and drag her back. For some reason, the man found her constant exasperation entertaining.  
  
_I really need to find out what cocktail he's on,_ Darcy thought to herself and flopped on to the giant, cushy bed.  
  
She closed her eyes and put some small effort in to taking the dickishness out of her voice. "Jarvis?"  
  
_"Have you locked yourself in, Ms. Lewis?_  
  
_I deserve that,_ Darcy conceded.  
  
"Can you please find it in your empathy coding to order a new coffee table for Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum's apartment, please?"  
  
_"Certainly. What style interests you?"_  
  
"Whatever is the least complicated in putting together," Darcy answered. "And hurts the most when being thrown in to it."  
  
_"Of course."_  
  
  
A few days passed since the latest furniture-related incident, but not without a headache involving the cleanup. Loki earned brownie points for partially picking up the wreckage. The problem was that exactly half had been picked up. Not bad in theory, quite fair actually, but the fact that Thor was a slob had been taken advantage of. Much pouting, pointing fingers, and pounding in Darcy's head followed.  
  
The apartment was blessedly quiet. Early mornings had always been the bane of her existence in the past, but her sleep cycle had flipped from late nights and afternoon mornings to early nights and early mornings. Picking up messes, playing referee, and clinging to her sanity left a girl exhausted. Fortunately, sleep was deep and the soft light, stillness, and alone time was pretty damn nice. Loki was also an early riser, but preferred to read and do whatever sneaky people do in their personal time. Thor was either dead to the world in sleep or on a play date with the Avengers. Usually it was the latter.  
  
Darcy was engrossed in her sugary cereal and staring at the blue-and yellow-tinted morning breaking over the city scape when Jarvis piped up.  
  
_"Ms. Lewis, a package has arrived at the front desk for you. Shall I instruct someone to send it to your room?"_  
  
Darcy perked up. "Heck yes! Thanks."  
  
_"Not at all, Miss."_  
  
A package was a good omen for the day. Despite being an adult, Darcy loved getting mail. Especially packages. With a spring in her step to the kitchen, she rinsed out the cereal bowl. The soft ding of the doorbell rang just as the dishwasher door clicked closed.  
  
"Woo!" Darcy, beyond excited, bounded towards the door.  
  
The pink-faced staff member waiting at the door was all too happy to help her drag the large box in to the living room. She thought back to the days when working for Stark and helping SPACE ALIENS learn about doughnuts and streaming television was exciting instead of dead tired. Those were the days!  
  
"Here's the mail, it never fails, it makes me wanna wag my tail!" Darcy trilled happily in her search for scissors to open the box. "When it comes I wanna wail MAAAIIIIL!"  
  
"What is that?"  
  
Loki had crept out of his hidey-hole, no doubt summoned by the doorbell. His hair was hanging slightly damp and long around his face while he eyed her and the box with wary curiosity. He had yet to change from the comfortable lounge trousers and the black cotton t-shirt with the ridiculous softness that Darcy always wanted to pet every time he wore it. She shoved all that to the back of her mind, as was now the norm.  
  
"Package!" she crowed with high cheer and slid the sharp edge of the scissors along the taped seem.  
  
"Obviously," Loki drawled and crossed his arms (the action made the definition in his wiry arms pop and the wibbley wobbley feeling in her gut was also pushed away into the mental cupboard). "What is inside the package? You haven't been this annoyingly cheerful in some time."  
  
"You know, I don't remember what I ordered, actually," she murmured and frowned at the packing slip inside. "But I love getting mail. Everyone loves getting mail. Oh! It's a new coffee table. Awesome."  
  
"You're still frowning."  
  
Darcy flipped through the instruction booklet. "I didn't realize that putting together a coffee table required so many instructions. It's a table. You would think a flat top and four legs would do it."  
  
She shrugged and let out a deep breath. "Ah well," Darcy pulled her hair up and back in a messy bun, essentially the more feminine version of rolling up the sleeves to get down to business. "Not like there was anything important to do today."  
  
"How long will putting a table together take?" Loki asked, his voice thick with amusement and that smug 'I'm a Superior Space Prince of Higher Intelligence' tone. "Or have they provided soil and seeds to grow the tree first?"  
  
"Ha ha." Darcy started to pull parts out of the box and then paused to raise brow at Loki. "I don't need an audience."  
  
Loki, small smirk that she didn't trust one bit on his thin lips, raised his hands in surrender. He disappeared down the hall, but not without an audible, patronizing chuckle.  
  
She glared after him and muttered, "Dick."  
  
Darcy took out each piece and laid them in a line on the living room floor. All the smaller bits and special tools were then organized in chronological order of need according to the instructions. She read the instructions a few times in her head, and then out loud.  
  
Thirty minutes later, Darcy rapped her knuckles against Loki's door.  
  
His answering "What?" was muffled. Taking that as permission to enter, she turned the knob.  
  
"Do you have a hammer?" she asked.  
  
"I believe you are looking for Thor," he drawled without looking up and scrawled something across the smooth face of his Stark brand tablet with a stylus.  
  
The muscles in Darcy's jaw tightened for a brief second. "I mean a normal hammer. You know, made of non-magical metal and used to beat the shit out of things?"  
  
The corner of his mouth quirked. "Is that a threat?" he asked, glanced at her, and then did a double take. His follow up was distinctly cautious, but sans teasing. "…No."  
  
"Second question," Darcy said. "Can you set things on fire without burning the whole building down?"  
  
Two black brows rose high. "I'm uncertain on whether I should answer that."  
  
"Loki!"  
  
_"Ms. Lewis, I must advise you against - "_  
  
"Shove it, Jarvis!"  
  
_"As you wish."_  
  
Her smile was tight. "As you were saying?"  
  
Loki shrugged a shoulder and got up to follow her. "The table, I presume?"  
  
"If you mean the cheap piece of particle board garbage and its friend the nonsensical instructions from hell, then yes."  
  
He stopped short of fully entering the living room, causing Darcy to narrowly stop herself from running into his back.  
  
"What is that travesty supposed to be?"  
  
What was once neat and organized was now chaos. The box sat up-ended on the other side of the room with a dent in it where Darcy's frustration had found a brief outlet. Plastic wrapping was strewn everywhere. A half dozen parts were in a discard pile. Nuts and bolts shone like large dabs of glitter in the mid-morning light. The table itself was…not a table. Things stuck out at odd angles and leaned heavily to one side. Once of the three hex wrenches that had arrived with the package hung part way out of a socket and appeared as though a lot of pulling had failed to extract it.  
  
"It's supposed to be on fire. Or a coffee table."  
  
"Well, you're not wrong."  
  
Darcy sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Can you please just burn away all evidence and we can pretend this never happened?" she pleaded, and tried not to think about who she was pleading to. "I would be very happy if this monument to my failure of a life would just…go away."  
  
Loki laughed and began examining the disaster from all sides with morbid fascination. She may have been projecting the morbid part.  
  
"What sort of god would I be if I let a mortal run from their trials and tribulations?"  
  
"An empathetic one," Darcy deadpanned. "If you were even a god at all. You know we say that more as a novelty term, right?"  
  
He ignored her and pulled out the hex wrench with little effort. Of course.  
  
"What are you doing?" she asked and flapped a hand at the Not Table. "Make with the fire already."  
  
With enviable grace, Loki curled his legs under himself and sat on the carpet. If he wasn't about to show her up, Darcy would be weirded out; he never sat on the floor that she had ever seen.  
  
"You've got this all wrong."  
  
"Thank you, Captain Obvious!"  
  
Loki waved a dismissive hand her way. "Why don't you go do whatever it is you do and let the adult fix this mess, hmm?"  
  
"Pssh. Good luck. I'm going to find a hammer."  
  
To beat him with. Sure, that might ruin a perfectly good hammer, but just might make his stupid, pretty face bleed for a few seconds.  
  
The search proved fruitless in the common areas. Even though she was dying to snoop in Loki's room, there was no way she would get out alive. Thor's on the other hand…  
  
"Did you know that Thor has a hammer collection?" Darcy exclaimed as she returned to the living room. "A really weird one too…"  
  
She trailed off and stopped to admire the picture: the table in worse condition than before with one leg completely missing, a corner snapped off, and the hex wrench bent as through someone had gripped it far too tight. The Thing still leaned heavily to one side, reminding Darcy that her failure against an inanimate object was not forgotten. Loki sat amongst a hand full of scattered wooden pegs and stripped screws, lips drawn tight and jaw clenched enough to make teeth squeak.  
  
Darcy crossed her legs and sat down next to him. "So." She tried not to smirk. "How's it going?"  
  
"I am actually impressed. This…thing…was crafted by minds more devious and sadistic than my own," he said. "It must be destroyed."  
  
"I don't want to sound like an idiot, but what about magic?"  
  
"Tried it."  
  
"Oh," she said with surprise. "Wow."  
  
Loki side-eyed her. "Don't say a word."  
  
Darcy offered the hammer instead, handle up. He motioned her forward.  
  
"Ladies first."  
  
"Oh, don't mind if I do!" Darcy sprang to her feet and adjusted her grip on the hammer. "This is going to be so satisfying."  
  
The first strike made a perfect hole, but it was not nearly as large or devastating as Darcy had hoped. Still, putting the exertion in the swing and feeling the terrible wood give way still had appeal. One swing more, then another, and another. Soon Darcy was using two hands and cursing in a focused rage.  
  
"Stupid cheap ass piece of shit! I hate this worthless table, I hate this perfect apartment, I hate this job, I hate how inept I feel, I hate Loki's stupid pretty face, and I WANT MY LIFE BACK!"  
  
Large splinters of wood flew everywhere, some landing clear across the room and sticking up right in the carpet. One almost hit her in the eye.  
  
She might have gotten a little carried away, but getting the frustration out of her system felt good. Loki had to pry the hammer out of her grip.  
  
"That's enough."  
  
"Can we set it on fire now?" she asked, perhaps with too much glee through heaving breaths.  
  
Loki smirked. "Gladly."  
  
Without a glance at the offending mass of kindling, the disaster they had failed to make a proper imitation of a coffee table out of went up in a bright flash of emerald green flames. The heat warmed her already ruddy cheeks and fueled her manic high. The successful vindictiveness eased tension from her shoulders. Darcy felt lighter. The sight was beautiful to behold, and yet Loki was ignoring his contribution and staring at her with a considering look.  
  
In the literal heat of the moment, Darcy did something very stupid. Which, honestly, was not a big shock. It was bound to happen eventually.  
  
She knew that as soon as she stretched up, cupped her hands around Loki's face, and pulled him down to plant a firm kiss on his unsuspecting lips. Giddiness had propelled her forward, and she was definitely going to blame it for the way her fingers curled into the soft hair at the base of his neck, and how her thumbs took the opportunity to run over the sharp edges of his cheekbones.  
  
The touch of a hand at her back and pliant way Loki responded to her oral assault prompted a lightening strike of adrenaline through her core and along every spidery nerve ending.  
  
And then the sensible part of her brain decided to make an appearance. Darcy practically teleported across the room with the speed at which she jumped away.  
  
"Oh god. Shouldn't have done that. Should not have done that." Darcy started shaking her head and ran both hands through her hair - they became stuck. "Throw me in the fire and we can pretend like this never happened?"  
  
"Do _not_ hit me with that hammer." Loki warned, and then calmly approached to detangle her hands from her hair like one does for a panicking toddler. "I am not a table that breaks easily and can be forgotten."  
  
"That last part worries me." The rising hysteria was making strange scenarios run through her mind. "Are you going to stalk me and keep me as a sex slave or something until what's left of my mind oozes out of my ears?"  
  
His mouth and the corners of her eyes (stupid, stupid mesmerizing sexy green color) quirked up. "Now that you've got the idea in my head - "  
  
"LOKI."  
  
"No," he amended, but the grin never left. "Not unless you want me to."  
  
A synapse in her brain fired off a happy warm feeling in her gut, but failed to make the words coming out of his inviting mouth make sense.

"…Uhh…"  
  
"Always so charming." Loki rolled his eyes. "Contrary to the daily drama housed inside this apartment, we are adults capable of meaningful conversation. Amongst other things."  
  
"…Uhh…"  
  
Loki pursed his lips. Darcy thought he might just leave, but he appeared to decide that patience was worth the effort.  
  
"Darcy." Ooh. She liked hearing him say her name. Especially in that even, slow manner. Patience sounded sinful coming from him. "Are you attracted to me?"  
  
"I spend way too much time looking at you and going over your body language in my head while pretending that I don't," she said dumbly. "Don’t act like you haven't noticed. Yes, I am most definitely, and inappropriately, attracted to you."  
  
"Likewise, I am similarly attracted to you, despite whatever ill-tempered words leave me."  
  
"So you like me even though you verbally treat me like garbage?" Darcy questioned. "That's pretty terrible."  
  
He considered the point and acquiesced with a nod. "Would you be amenable to me finding a…creative…way to apologize?"  
  
_YES. Fuck yes._  
  
_SHUT UP MIND. Geezus, try to have at least a smidgen of self-respect._  
  
"As long as you make an effort to not be a jerk in the future. I'll even meet you half way and hold myself to the same standard," Darcy added. "AND I'll even get Thor to stop throwing you around the apartment. I've been looking in to shock collar training anyway."  
  
Loki immediately stuck a hand out. "Deal."  
  
His hand was warm and three sizes larger than her own. It swallowed hers in a shake, but did not crush. The pressure was comfortable even when he pulled her forward.  
  
"That first kiss was rather promising," he murmured and the reason why Darcy had been annoyed earlier was lost in favor of being as close as possible to the firm and welcoming body.  
  
"I can do better."  
  
Loki opened her hands and slowly pressed her palms to either side of his face. "Show me."  
  
His breath teased her lips and the gravelly sound in the command had her toes curling in to the lush carpet. Darcy crossed the small distance and brought them together again. Where the kiss before had been spur of the moment and ended as soon as anything good had started, Darcy took a healthy dash of lowered inhibition and mixed it with all the sexual frustration she had been burying.  
  
Hearing the groan of appreciation was a hell of a confidence boost and aphrodisiac. Feeling Loki's fingers run through her hair and increase the heat between them was even better. Or maybe that was the literal fire in the room. Darcy wasn't sure. The magic undoing the buttons on her jeans was highly distracting.  
  
"Loki," she sighed, trying to refocus his attention.  
  
He groaned again and a hand wandered down past waistbands of jeans and silk panties to grope her bottom. "Fuck, I love it when you say my name like that."  
  
Darcy tilted her head back, overwhelmed for the moment at all the sensations. Loki took the opportunity to graze his teeth over her neck.  
  
"Oh my god, why is it so hot to hear you curse?" She squeezed her eyes shut. "Put out the fire and take me to your bed."  
  
Loki hummed and grinned against her skin. "Yes, my lady."  
  
Oh, she could really get used to hearing that too. In different octaves. And various states of neediness.  
  
The intense heat disappeared and Loki effortlessly picked Darcy up by the hips. She locked her legs around his waist and was taken to his room as quick as Jotunnly possible. Loki pinned her against the inside of the bedroom door, forcing it closed in a brilliant display of efficiency.  
  
Prying her mouth off of his was proving to be more and more difficult. "Nuh uh. As sexy as being fucked against a door is in theory, I prefer the bed." She said and then whispered next to his ear, "I'm worth it."  
  
"Impudence," he purred with a devilish smirk and ground the evidence of his arousal against her core. "I believe you."  
  
Loki sat on the edge of the bed and held Darcy in his lap. The cotton t-shirt she had so wanted to caress him through was torn off in favor of the pale flesh underneath. Going by the small noises catching in the back of Loki's throat, he liked the way her hands roamed over him, appreciating every defined line of muscle and sinew. Or maybe that was just the unabashed way she was dry fucking him. Or the epic battle of tongue against tongue.  
  
When his large hands  smoothed over her rear, taking clothing with them, Darcy knew she would need to revise every sexual benchmark of arousal she had because Loki was going to break every single one. Even that was a huge turn on.  
  
Darcy shed her own top and tossed her bra over one shoulder. Loki latched onto a rosy nipple and worked it to a hard point with lips and tongue. She had to pull him away by the hair (there was some definite conflict in his blown pupils on whether he was disappointed or liked it), unable to handle the additional stimulation. She was already worked into a frenzy and nearly falling apart.  
  
She pulled frantically at his lounging trousers. "I need you. Right now. I suggest you hold on for dear life because I'm going to ride you until neither of us knows our own names."  
  
"And here I thought I hated that foul mouth," Loki chuckled and kicked away the offending garment.  
  
"You have no idea what this foul mouth is capable of," Darcy said with a smirk and worked him by hand, spreading the ample pre-lubrication up and down his shaft in a way that made him gasp and his hips jump. "Of course you wear nothing underneath those things. I knew it."  
  
"Think of me bare often, do you?"  
  
"Why do you think I buy so many batteries?" she tossed back cheekily and planted her knees on the bed next to his hips. "I rather like the view from up here: you all flushed and needy underneath me, at my mercy. No wonder you have a thing for making people kneel."  
  
"We'll save that for later - _gods_ , woman!"  
  
"Ooh, yes," Darcy groaned as she sank slowly on to him. She pressed her forehead to his, barely able to keep her eyes open to enjoy the way his breathing increased and the way he appeared to want to devour her. He was only a few inches inside her.  
  
Darcy let up and then sank down to the same depth, once, twice, over and over, loving the feel of his head sliding against her entrance, breaching her over and over.  
  
"Fuck," she panted. "Fuck, fuck, _fuck_."  
  
"Please, Darcy," Loki pleaded, his arms trembling from the effort to keep from crushing her hips under his hands. "Fuck me!"  
  
She sank down until the bottom of her cheeks brushed the tops of his thighs. The intensity of it knocked the breath out of both of them. And then they _moved_ , together, and Darcy's mind went blank. Loki's hands pushed and pulled and kneaded her ass as her hips rolled.  
  
Darcy tilted her head back, whines and curses escaping as fast has she could replace them with much needed air - though there never seemed to be enough. A hand came up between her shoulders for support while Loki's hot breath burned against her skin from where his mouth was pressed between her breasts. He licked a line all the way up her neck and sucked on the jumping pulse point.  
  
Darcy rose and fell harder, needing to hear him come undone. His mouth dropped in a long, low moan. Loki snapped his hips up and whined when Darcy squeezed her thighs together to make him stop.  
  
"Say it again," she demanded, and pulled his mouth away from her skin by the hair to see his face. "Say please. Beg me."  
  
"Please," Loki mouthed, the hiss of the S barely audible. His teeth were white and bared in a snarl that she found impossibly sexy. Loki's mouth was a stark red and wet with a mix of sweat and saliva. His eyes were gleaming black with a hint of green around the middle. She could see him thinking about simply turning her over and taking her for his pleasure. Her cunt throbbed with approval of the idea.  
  
Darcy pulled harder and slowed her pace. "Say it properly."  
  
She paused on an upswing until only the slick head was barely inside her. His eyes glazed over with a burning need.  
  
" _Please_ , Darcy, I can't - "  
  
She slammed down and rode him fast and hard. With a bruising kiss, Darcy let the wild thing inside him off the leash. The primal urges in her responded, reveling in the tight embrace of his arm around her waist and the desperate snapping of his hips up in to her core. Loki's teeth sank in to the meat her shoulder; the baseness of it had her teetering on the edge and dizzy with want.  
  
"Don't stop, don't let go!" Darcy cried and held him against her. "I need you - Loki - !"  
  
Her cheek pressed into Loki's temple and her arms crushed him tight against her body. Every muscle tensed in her release, and through the sound of rushing blood in her ears Darcy heard Loki falling with her.  
  
She trembled, couldn't think straight. Every throb, every gentle rock of him in to her thereafter sent a shot of endorphins into every vein. Her lips, toes, and fingers tingled from the loss of oxygen. Autopilot kicked in to take care of that, and even then Darcy did not stop clinging to Loki.  
  
When her wits trickled back to the forefront, Darcy slowly shifted off of Loki to crumble on to the ridiculously comfortable bed. A breathless laugh escaped.  
  
"Something amusing you?" he asked and laid out next to her, his long body stretching out kinks and muscle stiffness. Darcy admired the view; it was certainly one she was memorizing.  
  
"Just thinking that I forgot to warn you," she said and continued to openly stare at him.  
  
"Oh?" He was clearly basking in her gaze and lapping up the attention. "I seem to remember several warnings that you made good on."  
  
The compliment made Darcy grin. "I neglected to mention how loud I can get sometimes."  
  
"Sometimes?" Loki raised a lazy brow at her. "I figured that would be part of the package. I cannot say that I was disappointed. More along the lines of pleasurably correct."  
  
She laughed a bit and rolled on to her side. "You're welcome. Still, I feel like it gets out of hand sometimes. What if Thor came back?"  
  
The wicked grin Loki sprouted earned him a poke to the ribs that hurt her more than it bothered him.  
  
"Thor will be back eventually," Loki said with reluctant seriousness. "And I don't plan on stopping this ravishment for anything beyond the necessities."  
  
Darcy sighed. "Could you please not use me as a way to annoy your brother?"  
  
"I already have this room cloaked in silence. Your worries are unfounded."  
  
"Good." Darcy swung a leg over his hips and shifted on top of him as a reward. "Because my sex noises are only for my partner."  
  
"Mmm." Loki ran his hands over her thighs and the ample roundness of her cheeks. "Just for me?"  
  
Her mussed hair made a dark curtain around their faces as Darcy brushed her lips over his. "Just for you."  
  
  
Thor's smile was wider than usual the next morning.  
  
Loki ignored him as usual and sipped a glass of orange juice from his favorite spot at the breakfast counter. Darcy, unable to ditch the itchy feeling that smile gave her, returned it with a bleary look as she shuffled past him to get to the fridge.  
  
"What's up with you? Find the new box of Strawberry Poptarts?" she asked through the haze of being still half asleep. The - ahem - exercise had worn her out more than anticipated. Darcy hadn't slept to eleven in forever and the sudden switch was not being well-received by her body.  
  
"Nothing," he said with a shrug and plopped a Poptart on a plate after a brief moment of playing hot potato. "Sounds like you two had quite the night. I couldn't help but over hear."  
  
Darcy froze before the meaning of Thor's words actually decoded in her brain.  
  
"I just wanted you to know that you have my full blessing Darcy," Thor continued. "I had hoped that you would find someone more worthy, but I will do my best to ensure that Loki is the gentleman that I know he can be when he puts his mind to it. Darcy, what are you doing?"  
  
Darcy had pulled the wooden cutting board from the cupboard. "Jarvis, could you order a new cutting board for me, please?"  
  
_"Miss Lewis, you currently have one in your - "_  
  
The cutting board was thick and had a good weight to it, yet cracked much too easily over Loki's head without any damage at all. Loki turned an unamused look to her.  
  
_"It will be delivered posthaste, Miss Lewis."_  
  
There was a tense minute where Darcy imagined her last thought would be how dead she was going to be. Loki surprised her, though. He was awfully good at that.  
  
His expression relaxed and he nodded. "I deserve that."  
  
Was it possible to die of shock?  
  
…Eh. If Loki wasn't going to make a big deal out of temporary insanity (of which they each had plenty), then neither would she.  
  
_This must be what they call personal growth. Weird._  
  
Darcy plucked Loki's empty glass from the counter. "More orange juice?"  
  
What Thor would not notice was the touch to the small of his brother's back. Brief though it was, the message was just for Loki.

**Author's Note:**

> Well that just happened.
> 
> Something something stress relief.
> 
> I have a handful of side projects and a dozen original original smut stories in progress, but sometimes you just need some good old fashioned foul-mouthed Darcy, shenanigans, a few cliches, and something to set on fire.


End file.
